Chapter One: Beginnings
Ages are tweaked a bit, and some other things are changed, which will become clear later on the more you read. Just had to mention that before anyone said I got ages wrong and whatnot. This is very much an AU!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
The old and massive Black family country estate was eerily quiet, except for the sound of a small creature scurrying across the floors. With little noise, the house-elf continued to tidy the manor. The small creature cleaned, dusted, and repaired everything it could reach. It was the loud sound of knocking at the front door of the estate that cut through the silence, stopping her in her tracks. The noise repeated several times before the little elf finally moved toward the door to see who would be visiting her Master's home.
The front door slowly opened, and the tiny house-elf looked out. Her small eyes went wide at the sight of the man standing there.
Wizzy looked up at the imposing figure of Lucius Malfoy, who towered over the elf. He was dressed in black and wore his travelling cloak. "Go and fetch your Master. I have some matters that I wish to discuss." He spoke, his authoritative tone snapping the elf out of its surprise.
"Y-yes, Master Malfoy. Right away, sir." She rambled off, her voice high-pitched and nervous.
Lucius watched as the elf hurried away whilst he stepped inside, letting himself into the manor. It was quite a beautiful estate, even if he was not fond of the Blacks. The interior was all done in rich shades of black and red with accents of dark gold, giving it an opulent and decadent atmosphere. He made his way further into the grand home, passing by a rather large painting with whom he recognised was Walburga Black, his sister's mother-in-law. He did not pay much attention to the painting or her constant yelling, as he was not here to look at portraits.
Sitting down on the couch in the living room, he waited until Wizzy came back, bowing her head as she looked up at him.
"My Master will be with you shortly." She said quietly.
Lucius did not reply verbally to the house elf, merely nodding his head. The house elf decided it would be better if she didn't stay too long with the man and decided to continue her previous tasks.
After a few moments, a door opened somewhere upstairs, and Lucius heard footsteps echo throughout the mansion as the sound grew closer.
"I did not think you'd be coming here so soon after the recent events, Lucius." A female's voice came, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor.
Standing up from his seat, he turned to face the new arrival. A woman of average height and pale skin with shoulder-length platinum blonde hair that curled slightly at the ends and eyes a greyish-blue colour. Her beauty was evident, but it was also obvious that she was not well, the skin beneath her eyes had dark circles that suggested she hadn't slept well recently.
Lucius knew well why that was the case. Her tone had been calm and collected as she had spoken, but there was a certain tiredness behind it.
"Grace," He greeted her with a simple nod of his head. "I thought it was important that we discussed this situation."
Grace eyed him curiously for a moment, a single eyebrow rising ever so slightly.
She had a feeling as to what this was about, though she had hoped that she would be wrong. "And what would 'this situation' be?" She questioned as she approached the sofa and took a seat across from him.
"Don't be coy, Grace. You know what I'm referring to. Or should I say, who?" Lucius answered her.
Grace remained silent, not saying anything for a moment. And there it is. No beating around the bush. Straight to the point. She inwardly sighed. This was going to be a long conversation. "I thought we talked about this before the funeral, Lucius. It would be wise to give Perseus some time to mourn."
"It's almost time for the school year to start, and if I remember correctly, my nephew was quite excited for his first year at Hogwarts." He replied, emphasising the part where he mentioned his nephew. "It will be good for him to get away from his grief and start focusing on his studies instead."
Grace did not miss the way he emphasised that Perseus was his nephew. She met his gaze and held it, trying to hide her own frustration at the way the man was acting. "Of course, Perseus will be attending Hogwarts. He's already mentioned to my son that he's been looking forward to attending the school with him." She stopped to take a sip from the tea that Wizzy had brought. "Now, what exactly is it that you're trying to imply, Lucius?"
Lucius watched the house elf pour tea in a cup for him as well, though he did not move to take it. "I'm not implying anything. I'm simply here to take my nephew with me to Diagon Alley so that he can buy his school supplies and, of course, a wand." The Malfoy responded, once more emphasising that Perseus was his nephew.
The teacup that was raised to Grace's lips was placed down gently on the coffee table, her hands clasping together in her lap. "I think it would be best if the boys went together as they had already planned to." She paused. "I intend to accompany my son and his cousin to buy their supplies."
Lucius' gaze narrowed at her words, not missing her subtle emphasis on her and his cousin. "I don't think that's necessary. You should know by now that with Arcturus' passing, I'm the closest living relative Perseus has left…" He left the rest of his sentence unspoken, letting her fill in the blanks.
It wasn't hard for Grace to fill in the blank, and she had to keep herself from scowling. She could see how he was trying to make this situation work in his favour. With his influence and status within the wizarding world, it was likely that the ministry would look at him as Perseus' only available guardian and give him full custody if he so wished.
Grace knew that was not the time nor the place to start an argument with the man in front of her. She had to tread carefully. "I'm very much aware of that, Lucius." She paused, her mind racing for a suitable answer. "But the boys are close and would surely feel more comfortable going together." She paused once more, choosing her next words carefully. "And you and I both know it would be best not to ruin their relationship. They have lost too much already."
She met Lucius' gaze, holding it and trying to convey the message without outright telling him that she would fight tooth and nail for her nephew.
Lucius stared back at Grace, his expression unreadable. She has a point. There was no reason to cause any trouble between the two cousins. He did not want to end up being the one responsible for ruining the relationship between them. It would only lead to Perseus resenting him, and that was something he didn't want to deal with. Not when the boy was the last thing of his beloved sister.
"Very well." He said, the hint of a smirk appearing on his lips, seeing the woman try not to show any signs of relief at his answer. "However," Immediately, her expression changed, a small frown appearing on her face, replacing the relieved one that was building up previously. "I insist that I be the one accompanying the boys instead of you. It will give me a chance to bond with my nephew and, of course, make sure that he buys the best materials for his studies."
Grace pursed her lips. Of course, there was always a catch, especially with the man in front of her. "I…see."
Lucius, uncaring of the woman's hesitation, continued on. "And, of course, my own son, Draco, will be going as well as someone that I know will be a good friend to Perseus."
She frowned at the mention of this other boy. She did not like the sound of any of this, especially since she wasn't involved in the planning. Unknown variables wouldn't help her situation. "And who might this other boy be?"
"Only the heir of the Mercer family. I'm sure you've heard of them before." The head of the Malfoy family stated matter-of-factly.
Grace had. Of course, she had heard of them. It surprised her a little bit that one of the most prominent families in the United States was sending the heir of their family here. Then again, with the war going on over there, they would want their son away from it all.
It made her feel a little more at ease, knowing that with someone of such importance there, Lucius would have to 'behave' himself. "Well, I suppose there's no reason to disagree, then," Grace stated, her expression giving nothing away. She was still not pleased, though.
"I'm glad you agree, Grace," Lucius replied, the ever-present smirk returning to his face. He knew she was displeased, and it amused him.
"When is this trip to Diagon Alley planned?"
The answer came quickly. "I'm glad you asked. I was thinking in about an hour or so. After all, my son and the heir of the Mercer Family are already on their way there."
Grace did not say anything in response for a second, her lips pursing into a tight line. It seemed as though Lucius had already planned out everything beforehand. This only annoyed her more, but she knew she would have to put her feelings aside for now as they had already come to an 'agreement'.
"Of course," She said, her voice betraying none of her frustration. "Wizzy!" She called out.
Immediately, the small house-elf popped up in front of them. "Yes, mistress?"
"Go and fetch Perseus. He is going to be leaving with his cousin and his uncle shortly."
"Right away, mistress!"
Wizzy turned to leave, her small legs moving quickly as she scurried away, only to pause at the notice of an even smaller creature than her. The sound of jewellery hitting against each other was accompanied by the movements of the creature as it blew past her. Not even a second later, another one blurred past her, the same sound echoing around the room.
Nifflers? Lucius thought, frowning as he watched the two creatures nearly trip over each other, scrambling past Wizzy.
"Jinx, stop running!" A voice called out, followed by the sound of fast-moving footsteps.
"C'mon, Perce, let them play!" A second voice, one that was unfamiliar to Lucius, replied, followed by more footsteps.
The two Nifflers skidded to a stop, hearing the voices and the jewellery in their hands clanging against one another. They turned around in time to see the two figures appear from around the corner.
One was a boy of fourteen standing at around five-foot-six with medium-length raven locks that were slicked back with a few silver strands hanging over his forehead. His eyes were like pools of rich, royal purple, mirroring the same striking hue that his mother's eyes possessed. He wore a simple and comfortable light-coloured brown sweater that matched his slightly tanned complexion, with the zipper undone somewhat, showing a silver chain necklace with a small, oval pendant hanging from it, paired with dark grey pants.
The other boy was a year older, standing at about the same height. His complexion was fair and white-toned, and his tousled hair was a rich, dark blonde messily swept to the side. Peering out from behind a sleek pair of glasses was a set of striking blue eyes reminiscent of the serene ocean. The boy wore a simple white shirt as the base layer, topped with a teal plaid long-sleeve shirt over it, along with a pair of loose-fitting dark brown pants.
Lucius recognised the younger of the two boys, his nephew, Perseus Black. The boy was a perfect blend of his late sister and her husband he loathed so much. But the older one…he had never seen him before.
As he looked over to him, his eyes found the elder boy's, and for a moment, the two of them were locked in a silent exchange. Those piercing icy blue eyes bore into him, almost like he could see right through him, and the Malfoy couldn't help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up before snapping out of the state due to his nephew's voice.
"Uncle Lucius?" The raven-haired boy spoke, his tone somewhat surprised. He hadn't expected his uncle to be visiting the estate today.
At the sound of his name, Lucius turned his attention away from the unknown boy and looked at his nephew. He gave the young boy a nod. "Perseus, good of you to join us. I thought we could head out to Diagon Alley today and get your supplies. And, of course, a wand."
The dark-haired boy nodded, a hint of excitement showing in his eyes at the prospect of getting a wand.
"Oooh, I remember getting mine." The other boy commented, letting the first Niffler into his arm while the second one perched up on his shoulder. "The wand chooses the wizard, so they say."
Lucius' attention went back to the older boy upon hearing him speak up. "And who might you be, exactly?" He asked bluntly.
The boy turned to the Malfoy, the corners of his lips tilting upward into a friendly smile. "The name's Alistair Dumbledore, Mr Malfoy." Alistair introduced himself with his friendly smile growing larger.
It clicked in Lucius' head. Alistair Dumbledore. He had heard of the boy from his son. His expression soured slightly at the younger boy at realising now that he was a Dumbledore, though he masked it well. It wouldn't do for him to get on the bad side of a person related to the headmaster of Hogwarts. He would have to be careful around him. "I see. And you're here because…?"
Lucius' nephew was the one who answered his question. "He's been staying here for a bit, uncle. I met him through Atlas after the funeral this summer."
The Malfoy did not say anything at first, his eyes flickering from his nephew to the boy standing beside him. A brief memory of what his son had said about the young Dumbledore playing in his mind. They were not positive at all, not to mention that the boy was sorted into Hufflepuff as well.
"Is that so?" He inquired, his tone making it clear that he was not very happy about the fact.
Alistair's expression did not change, and the same friendly smile remained on his face.
Grace took the moment to speak up, cutting into the conversation. "You mentioned that you had yet to get your supplies for the second year, right, Alistair?"
"Oh, yes, that's right, ma'am." The sandy-blonde-haired boy replied with respect, looking at Grace.
The older woman gave him a smile in return for how friendly he always was. "Well, that's perfect then." She took advantage of Lucius' momentary silence to add her own input and change the situation, which she had gotten her nephew into, a little better for him as she turned her gaze to him. "Your uncle here also agreed to take everyone else with him to Diagon Alley."
With clear surprise written on Perseus' face, he turned to look at his uncle without missing a second. "You did, uncle?"
Lucius tried not to give Grace a disapproving look. It was clear what her intentions were, and it was quite irritating. I underestimated the woman. Instead, he looked to his nephew, the corners of his lips twitching up slightly into a strained smile after having been tricked by Grace. "Of course, Perseus. Your cousin and the heir of the Mercer Family are already there, so you and your friend will have to hurry up and get ready."
"Alright," Perseus replied, some gidiness seeping into his tone while turning his attention back to his friend. "Let's go get Atlas and Gideon, then."
Alistair nodded, the same enthusiasm in his eyes. "I'll go grab our stuff."
Gideon? Another person is here? Lucius thought, wondering who else was present in the manor at the moment.
He did not get a chance to inquire any further as the two boys had already taken off, and he could hear their footsteps fading into the hallway.
"You don't have to look so annoyed, Lucius," Grace spoke, bringing his attention back to her.
The head of the Malfoy family, now reminded of what the woman had done, looked back at her, this time not bothering to hide his annoyance. "You seem to have a knack for meddling."
Grace was not bothered by Malfoy's displeasure and merely smiled in return. "Oh, dear, I wouldn't call it 'meddling'. I'm simply making sure my nephew will have a proper and fun trip to Diagon Alley."
She noticed the narrowing of Lucius' eyes but continued with her response. "And I seem to recall you agreeing to take the 'boys' with you." She emphasised, her tone making it clear who she was referring to.
She was a formidable woman. That much was for certain.
There was a shuffling along the carpet in the hallways of Black Manor as Perseus and Alistair followed their nifflers back to the room they came from. Muffled voices became more and more clear the closer they got to the room before they opened it and came to face the two boys sitting down and having a conversation of their own.
The first to turn was the eldest and tallest amongst them all with pitch black short messy hair and eyes as blue as the sky itself. Standing up, the boy came up to his full height of five-foot-nine. He was a growing boy who would clearly become someone of imposing stature with his already stocky build covered by the loose-fitting dark-blue collared shirt and fitted grey pants.
"Back with your nifflers? You shouldn't let them loose like that around here. You know how the house-elfs get." Atlas reprimanded his younger cousin along with his friend from Hogwarts.
Perseus seemed to take a little bit of offence at the comment from whom he considered his older brother. "You know as well as I do that Jinx means no harm." The niffler seemed to choose that moment to join in on their conversation by frantically moving around on Perseus' shoulder and thus letting quite a few of the 'treasure' it had hoarded fall down onto the ground.
Atlas gave him a knowing look that was promptly ignored by the younger boy.
"Was it such a good idea to bring nifflers to a place such as this?" The fourth boy in the room, seemingly the same age as Alistair stood up as well coming to the same height. With a head of messy black hair swept to the side and brown eyes, a shade darker than his tanned skin. Gideon Sayre looked much like your proper pureblood would with his lean figure covered by his white-collared shirt and his black slacks giving the image of a proper wizard of pureblood and as Gideon himself would like to think, royalty.
Alistair had been the one to reply with a shrug, unbothered as he took his seat on the bed he'd been sleeping on since his arrival to the manor. "They've not even been as bad as you lot make it out to be." His comment was accompanied by a roll of his eye.
Perseus brought back the attention to him before his friends could spiral into a back and forth between them. "We best not."
Alistair nodded, "Perce is right, we ought to start getting ready instead."
Atlas perked up in interest. "For what?"
"We're heading off to Diagon Alley with my uncle," Perseus answered letting Jinx roll down from his shoulder to join his fellow niffler, Snatcher.
Atlas' expression soured slightly at the mention of his cousin's uncle. "Your uncle is here?" The man came far too often to their home for the boy's liking and it was no secret that he and his mother did not get along well with the older male.
Perseus took notice of his cousin's immediate shift but did not comment on it. "Mhm, and he's agreed to take all of us with him to Diagon Alley so we can buy our supplies and I can finally get my own wand!" His eyes gleamed with excitement, his earlier tension dissipating at the thought of his upcoming trip.
Atlas stood up, brushing down his shirt and running a hand through his dark hair. "Well, we'd better not keep your uncle waiting, then." He said, though his enthusiasm was clearly tempered by the idea of spending time in Lucius Malfoy's company.
Gideon grabbed his coat from the chair beside him, giving a slight nod. "About time, I've been ready for days. The sooner we get there, the better."
The four boys were quick to leave the room and make their way downstairs. Perseus and Alistair led the way, the sound of their excited chatter and the occasional jingle of Niffler-collected trinkets echoing through the hallway. Atlas and Gideon followed closely, each boy straightening their attire.
When the four boys stepped into the foyer, they found Grace and Lucius standing near the grand fireplace. They seemed to have just finished a private exchange. Atlas' sharp blue eyes lingered a second, noting the sublet shift in his mother's expression as she drew herself up with practised composure. Grace turned to them, a calm smile gracing her features and spoke first. "All ready to head out?" She framed her question lightly, her tone almost maternal, but her gaze swept over them with quiet scrutiny.
It was Perseus who answered with an eager nod. "Yes, Aunt Grace. Alistair and I gathered our things, and Gideon has been ready for days, I think," He said, shooting Gideon a playful grin. The older boy rolled his eyes in good nature. Atlas offered her a curt nod, his stance collected as ever. "We're all ready."
Lucius inclined his head slightly, acknowledging his nephew's promptness. His gaze flickered over the other three boys. "Excellent, we should make haste," He said. "Draco and the Mercer heir are already in Diagon Alley. We'll join them shortly."
While Lucius addressed them, Grace gently stepped forward, lowering her voice so that only Atlas could hear. Her tone was soft but firm. "Atlas," She began, her greyish-blue eyes meeting his. "I want you to keep an eye on Lucius. Don't let him dictate too much, and please watch over Perseus. His uncle has… particular ideas, and I want to make sure Perseus isn't pushed or swayed into anything."
Atlas stiffened slightly, not in surprise but in acknowledgement. He nodded, "I will." He promised quietly. Grace gave him a small, grateful smile. It was a familiar request. She often asked Atlas to look out for Perseus and he had always done so without complaint.
The others were already moving towards the large fireplace at the end of the hall where a jar of Floo powder waited on a mantle. Wizzy the elf hovered nearby, jittery as always, ready to assist if needed. The mention of Draco being with the Mercer heir seemed to spark a bit of interest among them, though no one voiced it out loud.
Each boy stepped through the green flames in turn, guided by Lucius' instructions, until they emerged into the bustling heart of the wizarding world, Diagon Alley. The shift from the quiet, looming grandeur of Black Manor to the lively cobbled streets packed with witches and wizards was stark. The air buzzed with chatter, shopkeepers called out their wares and owls hooted softly from their perches.
Lucius stood slightly ahead of them, dusting off an invisible speck from his cloak. His eyes roamed their surroundings before landing on what he was seemingly searching for, the four boys now looking over to where he was. They all noticed two figures now heading their way. Draco Malfoy was easy to recognise with his sleek-white blond hair and his cold grey eyes looking around in boredom. It was the other person whom they were all unfamiliar with.
The boy was an inch or two shorter than Perseus and seemingly the same age as well. His attire and bearing made him stand out in a style that hinted at American wizarding fashion, slightly different cuts, a subtle embroidery along the hem, and a blend of dark emerald and chocolate-brown fabric. It all looked expensive, and refined but practical. His posture was confident and poised, betraying no uncertainty at finding himself in a foreign wizarding market.
No doubt this was Luke Mercer.
Luke had short, curly black hair that framed his face neatly. His eyes were a warm brown, set against rich dark skin a couple of shades darker than Gideon's and there was an alert curiosity shining in those eyes. Though he was only fourteen years old, there was something self-assured about the boy, they all noticed. As he approached them alongside Draco, Luke inclined his head politely, first towards Lucius and then the others, "Mr. Malfoy. I trust your journey was pleasant?"
Lucius offered the boy a curt nod, that carefully guarded respect he offered to those of equal or greater influence. "Yes, indeed. I see Draco has shown you around a bit?" He looked over to where Draco stood slightly behind him, wearing, dark well-fitted robes and his customary smirk.
"Somewhat," Luke replied. "Draco has been very informative though we only saw a portion of the shops. He mentioned we'd be waiting on you before picking up the more, ah, essential items." His eyes scanned the group now gathered before him.
From behind Luke, Draco stepped forward. His gaze flickered dismissively over Alistair and Gideon, lingering on Atlas for a moment and finally settling on Perseus. "Took you long enough," Draco drawled, although there was a glimmer of something warmer in his eyes when they met Perseus'. It was faint but noticeable.
Perseus, still brimming with excitement at the prospect of a new wand, offered a small grin. "We had some delays," He said, not elaborating on his uncle's back and forth with his aunt. He turned his attention to Luke and extended a hand in greeting. "Perseus Black," He introduced, "And these are Atlas Blac, Gideon Sayre, and Alistair Dumbledore."
"Luke Mercer," Luke answered, taking Perseus' hand with a firm but unhurried grip. A second later, his dark eyes flicked to the others. "It's a pleasure." He gave the group a courteous nod.
Atlas with his arms folded, nodded in response. "Pleasure," He echoed, though his expression remained guarded. He noticed how Luke carried himself with an ease that most pureblood heirs often did. The Black in him acknowledged such poise, but Atlas' earlier conversation with his mother about Lucius made him wary of any new factor.
Gideon on the other hand, looked more curious than wary. "Sayre," He introduced h himself, smoothing an imaginary crease on his shirt." "I've heard a bit of your family's ties to… well, everything in the States."
Luke's mouth quirked slightly. "Things back home are complicated," He said, "But I'm looking forward to a less chaotic time here at Hogwarts."
Alistair gave a bright smile, stepping closer to the new arrival. "Alistair Dumbledore," He repeated gently, though he'd been already introduced." I'm sure you'll find it wonderful here at Hogwarts. Our second year is about to start and hopefully, it'll be calmer than last year." He said, acknowledging that last year had been anything but calm.
Lucius cleared his throat before more could be said and immediately drawing attention back to himself. "Yes, well," He began in that cool, composed tone, "It seems we're all acquainted now, so it is best we-" But just then, a hooded figure drifted close to Lucius' side, and leaned in to whisper something urgently in the older man's ear. Lucius stiffened slightly, his cold grey eyes narrowing at the news. He nodded once in reply, dismissing the messenger with a wave. Draco arched an eyebrow, sensing his father's annoyance.
Lucius exhaled with barely contained displeasure, turning to face the boys. "It appears some matters need my immediate attention." He said coldly, as though offended by the inconvenience. "I won't be able to escort you just now. You'll have to get your supplies on your own."
His gaze turned to his nephew. "Your first wand," he reminded him, "Will be at Ollivanders. Robes, textbooks, potions equipment, I expect you'll get only top quality, understood?"
"Yes, uncle."
Lucius' lip quirked faintly and he resumed addressing the entire group, though he only seemed to focus on Perseus. "Once you've finished, we'll reconvene at Flourish and Blotts in, let's say two hours from now. Gilderoy Lockhart's signing is taking place and your aunt," He paused, as though irritated at the mention of Grace. "She thought it might be instructive for you all to attend it."
"Understood," Atlas answered, equally cold in tone before anyone else could say anything. "Well do just that." He glanced at Draco, who avoided his gaze by focusing on a shop sign overhead. Lucius gave them all one last assessing look before turning sharply on his heel and vanishing into the crowd, the unknown figure following by closely.
Percy turned a second later to Draco, who was already staring at him. He opened his mouth as if to invite Draco along, but the blond boy shook his head. "Go on," Draco said. "I need to find Crabbe and Goyle. There's something I need to discuss with them." He then mimicked his father as he dusted his clothes off, saying in a drawl, "Plenty of time to catch up at the bookstore." And was gone, vanished into the crowd as well.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Atlas turned to the group and addressed them all. "Alright, your wand first, then?" He asked his cousin, amused at his attempt at hiding his rising excitement.
Alistair chuckled at his friend, nodding. "I'd say so. Ollivanders is just over there." He pointed down the winding street, where witches and wizards bustled past laden with new tomes and potion vials.
"We should handle that first," Gideon added. "Then pick out our robes, we do need fresh potions kits, quills, and who knows what else," He rambled on while pulling up his list. There was an eagerness in his voice, hinting at how thoroughly he'd planned for the new year.
Luke dipped his head in agreement with his fellow American. "Lead on."
In less than a minute Ollivanders came into full view, its modest sign creaking ever so slightly in the summer breeze. The windows, stacked high with wand boxes that had taken on a light layer of dust, exuded a quiet mystery. People bustled past, absorbed in their own errands, but the five boys paused just short of the worn, wooden door with its etched lettering: Ollivanders, Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
"After you, Perce," Alistair Murmured with a gesture towards the door. "This is your big moment."
Percy nudged it open, the bell overhead tinkling softly as they filed into the narrow shop. Though the midday sun shone brightly outside, Ollivanders remained dim, lit by floating orbs of pale light./ Shelves upon shelves of slim boxes rose up the walls, casting faint shadows.
At first, no one stood behind the small counter. The group exchanged uncertain looks, but then they heard a faint scraping and a moment later, the door to the back room opened. Out emerged Garrick Ollivander himself, tall, wispy-haired, with keen silver-grey eyes that seemed to miss nothing.
"Ah," He greeted, voice soft and curious. "I expected you might be stopping by, Mr. Black. Yes, yes, I wonder when you'd come by for your wand." He strode forward, peering at Perseus. "Must be…oh, nearly a month silence I last you, at the funeral service." His eyes slid a bit awkwardly away, as though apologising for the reference to sorrow.
The young boy nodded hesitantly. "I- yes. It's about time I got it." He cleared his throat, searching for something more graceful to say.
"Indeed, indeed," Ollivander murmured, stepping closer. "I am sorry for your loss, of course." He paused, giving both Atlas and Percy a respectful nod before turning that bright scrutiny onto the others. "But, oh, I see we've a fine gathering of wands in this shop already." He cocked his head at Atlas, Alistair, Gideon and Luke in quick succession.
Atlas stepped forward with his wand in his hands. "Yes, sir. My mother brought me here a few years ago." Atlas said, inclining his head politely. "Ebony, dragon hearstring, thirteen inches… you told me it was 'surprisingly swishy', if I recall?"
A glimmer of satisfaction crossed Ollivander's features. "That I did, your Mr. Black. Ebony Wands," He explained, touching a row of boxes behind the counter. "Tend to select witches or wizards who beneath a steadfast exterior, carry a boldness, sometimes even a temper. The swishiness simply means it has more to give than Ebony typically does, which suits you well, I imagine." His gaze flickered over Atlas' wand. "I hope it's served you reliably?"
Atlas gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a small grin. "Hasn't failed me yet."
Ollivander smiled at that, then turned to Alistair. "And Mr. Dumbledore, how is my hawthorn and phoenix feather creation holding up? Fourteen and a half inches, if memory serves?"
Alistair met the wandmaker's gaze, his own bright with warmth. "Yes, sir. It's still… well, it's incredible. Quite easy casting spells with it, although you said at the time that hawthorn could be paradoxical?"
"Paradoxical indeed. "Ollivander's countenance grew thoughtful. "Hawthorn wands can handle healing magic and jinxes with equal skill, provided the owner's heart is in the right place, and a phoenix feather core, of course, is quite selective. Wonderful, wonderful… I'm glad it's suiting you, Mr. Dumbledore."
Ollivander's stare shifted next to Gideon, and his silver-grey eyes flicked to the wand in the young teenager's hands. "I believe I recall you visiting the shop once, though you never did purchase a wand from me, correct?"
Gideon inclined his head in polite acknowledgement. "Yes, sir. I actually already had a wand when I arrived in Britain. Got it in the States before transferring here. Rowan and dragon hearstring, thirteen inches, slightly springy. Made by Beauvais Wand Shop out of New York."
"Ah, Beauvais Wand Shop, yes, I've heard of their work," Ollivander said, eyebrows raising with interest. "Rowan is especially potent in protective spells, and I imagine with a dragon heartstring core, it can pack quite the force if handled properly."
"It does," Gideon Confirmed. "They told me Rowan was for moral clarity and strong defence. It's served me quite well, though I remain curious about your process, Mr. Ollivander."
The wandmaker offered a modest smile. "There are subtle variations from country to country, but as long as the wand and wizard bond well, you should have no complaints." Gideon nodded, satisfied. Meanwhile, Ollivander's attention turned to Luke."
"Mr. Mercer, I believe?" He asked, having heard the young heir of the Mercer family would be transferring to Hogwarts. "I suspect that wand was not my handiwork either."
Luke nodded, his hand moving to take his wand out of his robes. "Yes, sir. It's also from Beauvais Wand Shop in New York. My father took me there before I came over here." He carefully showed a slender wand of dark, polished wood. "Willow, with a dragon heartstring core, elven point seven inches, 'surprising swishy,' or so the wandmaker said."
Ollivander leaned in, openly intrigued. "May I?" He asked, stretching out his hand. Luke offered it to him, and the wandmaker brushed his fingertips lightly along the shaft, eyes half-lidded in a sort of focus. "Yes… Willow, a rather distinctive grain. The wandmaker's style is somewhat different from ours, but the craftsmanship is sound. A faint flick of his wrist conjured a swirl of bluish sparks, and Ollivander hummed in appreciation. "Flexible indeed, with that underlying dragon power. A fine wand, Mr. Mercer. Beauvais Wand Shop are well-regarded stateside."
Luke looked pleased, even a tad relieved. "Thank you."
With that, Ollivander returned the wand gingerly, then let his eyes land at last on Perseus, who had been watching this exchange with a mixture of Curiosity and mounting excitement. "And so," The wandmaker murmured. "We come to the reason for your visit." He stepped around the counter, brushing dust off his sleeves. "Young Mr. Perseus Black, first wand. Step forward, my boy."
Percy inhaled and moved closer, aware that Atlas, Gideon, Alistair, and Luke stood behind him in a close semicircle. Ollivander sized him up, a look of searching curiosity akin to a tailor measuring a client's every dimension.
"I've sold wands to many a Black over the decades," The wandmaker mused, "Though your mother's… well, she had a truly special piece. Pine and… a rather unusual core, I recall." His voice wavered momentarily as if recalling something sorrowful. Then he pressed his lips together. "Enough. We shall see what suits you best. Pardon me."
They watched him vanish into the back shelves, rummaging among stacked boxes for several minutes before coming back and handing some over to the teen. Perseus tested a few wands in the normal manner yet none responded well. One fizzled with limp sparks, another shot a burst of flames that nearly singed the neat hair of Gideon who took a few steps back after that. Ollivander hastily removed each with a quiet, "No, no, that's not it…"
They had only been in Ollivanders for a short while, yet Perseus was already surrounded by half a dozen wand boxes, each set aside after a brief, unsatisfying test. "Hmm…" The wandmaker murmured, collecting the latest rejected wand and sliding it back into its box. His silver-grey eyes darted between his client and the shelves as though he were shifting through mental notes. "Nothing so far, Mr. Black. Strange. Usually a Black Heir quite smoothly. Your father in fact had one, but no matter, we'll have to be creative."
Perseus stiffened slightly at the mention of his father but ignored it as his cheeks grew slightly warm. Resisting the urge to apologise for something outside his control as he heard his own heartbeat, equal parts anticipating and creeping self-consciousness.
At last, Ollivander closed a box with a decisive snap and exhaled. "Pardon me," He said in a thoughtful undertone. "I'll consult my storeroom." Without elaborating any further, he retreated to a narrow doorway at the back, leaving the boys in silence that felt heavier than before.
Atlas cleared his throat softly, cutting the silence. "Don't worry," He whispered. "He always finds something."
Perseus nodded, although his fingers tapped restlessly on the counter. "Yeah, I know. Just… I expected it to click faster."
"It doesn't always go fast." Gideon offered with his voice measured. "Some wand lore is unpredictable."
Alistair managed a small grin, an attempt to brighten up his friend's mood. "Mine nearly set a stack of boxes ablaze before I got the right one."
Luke who'd been standing a little further away examining the store came a little closer. "My father told me it took him over a dozen tries before he got his." He laughed and continued. "Nearly destroyed the door of the shop as well while doing so."
Perseus stared at them all in quiet appreciativeness. It was always good to have people backing him like this.
Time stretched, and a minute or two passed with no sound except the occasional clatter from deeper in the shop. They wondered if Ollivander was simply rummaging for more standard boxes or if something else was going on behind that door. Right when it all began to feel truly uneasy, soft footsteps approached. Ollivander emerged, carrying a single slim black box in his hands. A fine layer of dust coated its edge, suggesting it hadn't been touched in quite some time.
"This," He said, each word carefully chosen," Is… a tad bit unorthodox." His gaze flickered to Perseus. "But you've shown me nothing else will do, Mr. Black." He placed the box on the counter. "If you please…"
Lifting the lid, their eyes saw the dark brown wand. Identifiable nodes were partway along the shaft, and the top of the wand had a circular metal housing with what looked like a spherical silver orb.
Perseus hesitated for a moment, noticing Ollivander's mouth was set in a thin line, as though uncertain. "Pine, thirteen and a quarter inches with…" He paused as if debating with himself whether to say the next words or not. "A predominantly dragon heartstring core."
Atlas blinked quickly at his words and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Predominantly?" He asked the question their entire group was about to ask.
Ollivander answered, his tone almost too casual. "It is predominantly dragon heartstring with a small trace from an earlier wand, salvaged long ago. I believe it may be precisely what's needed here. And then, rather than elaborate, he gave Perseus a nod, as if to say, "Try it, see for yourself…"
The young heir extended his hand with a flicker of confusion. As his fingers curled around the handle, something shifted in the air. Not the usual dazzling flash or violent surge, instead, Perseus felt a gentle wave of warmth pass through him, tangled with a piercing ache that squeezed his chest. It wasn't painful, exactly, more like a pang of grief, fleeting but real.
A gasp escaped his lips, and sparks arced overhead, shimmering silver in colour, dancing for an instant like spectral wings before fading. A hush fell upon the group. Atlas inhaled sharply with his eyes narrowed even further, Alistair's mouth parted in wordless wonder at the display, and Gideon's eyebrows lifted in silent intrigue. Luke looked on meanwhile, eyes dark with subdued fascination.
Perseus blinked, realising his heartbeat had quickened. The feeling had come and gone so fast, yet it had felt as if it lingered for minutes. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He lowered the wand slightly, breathing somewhat unevenly. "What… was that?" He murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Ollivander's lip tightened for a fraction of a second, as though he were weighing how much to reveal. When he spoke, his voice remained calm. "It appears this wand resonates quite strongly with you. Mr. Black." He paused once more. "Yes, yes." He whispered, as though answering his own internal debate, nodding to himself. "It's decided."
A moment of silence hung in the air, the faint afterglow of the warm and sorrow that had washed over him seemed to settle on Perseus' shoulders. Atlas reached out and gently touched his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze as he looked into the concerned eyes of his cousin, but he merely offered a shaky smile to show he was alright, rattled but alright.
When he finally set the wand down, his breath now slowly went back to even. He glanced at Ollivander, confusion and gratitude swirling in his gaze. Ollivander only gave a polite nod, empathy crossing his features for a heartbeat. "The wand chooses the Wizard, Mr. Black." He stated, looking down at the wand. "And I believe you've found your wand."
Garrick Ollivander wasted no more time to carefully set the wand back into its box, handling it with quiet respect. Perseus fumbled through his coin pouch before taking out the required galleons and placing them on the counter.
The wandmaker gathered up the payment and gave the box a final pat. "Take good care of it," He said, his voice gently paternal. "A wand that stirs such strong feeling is often a devoted ally, but it can also demand sincerity of purpose." He didn't elaborate any further, as though unwilling to lay bare all the secrets behind that faint sorrow.
With a quiet "thank you," they all turned and the shop's small be tinkled gently as they exited into Diagon Alley, the midway sun warmer and louder than before. The surge of crowd noise hit them once more.
Atlas had turned to Percy again and spoke. "You alright?"
His younger cousin gave a nod back before they heard Alistair's bright voice. "Good show, Perce!"
Gideon took out his list once more as the others were talking amongst each other before clearing his throat. "We'd better keep moving, robes next?" He tossed the question to his friends.
"Yes." Atlas answered his question and pointed across the street. "A few new sets should do. Then we can cross to the Apothecary for potions supplies. If we're quick, we might have time to stop by Quality Quidditch Supplies." He said, his voice becoming a lot more eager than usual at the topic of Quidditch.
They wasted no more time and followed the older boy into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. All of them were to immediately get fitted and get their robes for the year, Atlas, Gideon and Alistair's robes already had their house colours engraved on them while Luke and Perseus were only plain for the moment.
End